


Dirty Little Secret

by phoenixfawkes12



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Community: norsekink, F/M, Impregnation, Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-17
Updated: 2012-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-03 19:30:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixfawkes12/pseuds/phoenixfawkes12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His fingers trace over the flat planes of her stomach. She doesn't think it will remain that way for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Little Secret

**Author's Note:**

> For a kinkmeme fill over at norsekink:
> 
> "Impregnation kink. Lots of emphasis on how they’re not using birth control, and Loki turning her on by talking dirty about how he’ll fuck her fat with child, and the lady feeling the warmth of his seed when he spills inside of her. Bonus points if the lady is Natasha or Sigyn (his wife from the myths)."
> 
>  
> 
> Also...probably the filthiest thing I've ever written. Un-betaed so all errors are my own.

Natasha waited until the Avengers mansion was quiet; until most of the occupants were asleep or too busy tinkering in labs to notice her slipping away in the dead of night. Her heels clicked as she excited the cab and entered the gleaming entryway of the apartment building. She waited until the doors to the elevator closed behind her and she had pressed the button to take her to the topmost floor before she released the breath that she had been holding. This was wrong, so very wrong. It went against every moral fiber in her being, all her training, it betrayed her friends, her coworkers, her _team_ , but all of those reasons hadn’t been enough to stop her from coming to this place again. From coming to _him_.

Sometimes she wondered if her mind was still her own or if she had simply become another pawn in his game; a piece on his board; just one more puppet to dance for his amusement. In the end, it didn’t matter. In the end, she would always return to him, no matter how many times she told herself it was the last time--that she would stay away. He was a drug in her system, and it was getting all the harder to deny herself a hit. 

The elevator dinged as it arrived at its destination. The doors opened into the opulent suite that put Tony Stark’s penthouse to shame. The décor was all green and silver with hints of black and gold running throughout. Multimillion dollar art hung on the walls and on most other days in most other locations, Natasha would be content to spend hours just looking at the century’s worth of art that was spread in front of her. Today was not most days and at this moment all she had eyes for was the man that stood leering in the middle of the marble-floored foyer. He stood with his hands behind his back and his legs apart. His long black hair brushed his shoulders and Natasha longed to wrap her fingers in it. His green eyes sparkled with mirth as he studied her. His lips quirked up into a smirk as he stalked towards her. 

He circled around her, his arms now hanging loosely as his sides. Every few moments, he’d touch her. A finger stroking her arm, lips brushing the back of her neck, a thigh pressed against hers. He stopped behind her, his hands now resting on her hips and drew her back until she was flush against his front. “I thought you said you were never coming back here,” he whispered, his mouth against the shell of her ear. His hot breath caused a shudder to race through her body and liquid heat to pool in her belly. “If my memory serves, you were quite insistent on that fact. You seemed…offended by my proposal.” 

It wasn’t that she’d been offended by it. It was in fact, quite the opposite. Natasha was horrified to realize the depth of how much she _wanted_ what he was offering her. She’d dressed and fled his home, vowing never to return. She’d lasted less than two months. Whenever she was alone, her mind would drift to what he’d whispered in her ear as they’d laid intertwined in his bed, his hand resting overtop her flat stomach. _I want to fill you with my child. To see my seed take root in you; to see your belly grow with my offspring_. 

“I…” Natasha murmured as lips fastened to her collarbone and began to suck gently, “I’ve given it a lot of thought.” 

“Have you now?” he mutters as he marks her. She’ll have a livid purple bruise there in the morning, for sure. She sighed. At least the Black Widow suit would cover it. 

Finally she drew back from him and turned in the circle of his arms so they were face to face. This was important. What she said next was going to change her life, all of their lives in fact. She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. It felt like she was on the edge of a precipice and all that was left to do was take that last step off the edge into oblivion. She opened her eyes to see him looking down at her. 

“I want to have a child with you, Loki.” His green eyes widened in a moment of unmasked emotion. He broke into a wide grin, one of the few truly happy smiles she’d ever seen on his face before he quickly schooled  
his features into his normal look of mischief and indifference. 

“You must be sure about this. There is no going back. If you agree to this, you shall be mine and no others. I will not tolerate sharing you. No one else shall ever touch you. No other shall ever know you again. You will be mine, body and soul. When your allies find that you carry the offspring of their hated enemy, you shall be as hunted as I am. _You must be sure, Natasha_.” 

Her eyes raced across his features that had become so beloved to her over the last year. What had started as a night of angry sex had somehow evolved into…this. She nodded; she’d made her decision. She leaned up and brushed her lips against his. “I agree,” she smirked. “Possessive bastard.”

Loki quickly deepened the kiss and tightened his grip on her hips. He rolled his hips into her and she gasped as she felt the length of him pressed firmly against her thigh. He shoved one of his legs between hers and she immediately grinded down on it. His tongue slipped past her lips as he licked his way into her mouth. Natasha continued to rub herself against his thigh, small whines escaping her as he now trailed kisses down her jaw and neck. He honed in on the spot behind her left ear and scrapped his teeth over it. Her knees nearly gave out and she moaned his name.

Before she could get her mind around it, they were moving backwards towards the bedroom. Loki’s fingers danced across the buttons of her blouse and then down to skim across skin of her stomach at the top of her jeans. She kicked off her heels and began to remove his clothing. The fastenings of his silk shirt continued to catch and finally she just fisted the fabric and ripped it, sending buttons pinging off into all parts of the room. “I liked that shirt,” he said as he bites down on her breast in retaliation. She racked her nails across his chest in reply. It’s Loki’s turn to shudder at the sensations she’s drawing from him.

Finally, they are both naked and he tosses her on the bed before climbing on top of her, his weight pinning her down to the mattress. One of his hands gathers hers and pins her hands above her head. Once her arms are pinned he turns his head and stops, staring at the newest scar to mark her body. This is the scar that will make this dream a reality. 

He traces the small incision in the skin of her upper arm. It’s the size of a matchstick and until a few weeks prior, had been the location of her birth control implant. S.H.I.E.L.D. required all active duty female agents to be on some method of birth control and with long term missions, the implant had been the best option. When she’d decided to go down this path with Loki, she had dug out the rod herself. It’s healed over and scared and Loki traces it reverently with his mouth. “How long?” he asks. “My last cycle ended two weeks ago,” she says. She’s entering her most fertile period of the month.

The hand not pinning her down trails first to her breast and rolls a nipple between his fingers until it pebbles. He then sucks it into his mouth, his teeth catching and holding it as his tongue darts over it.  


“I will fuck you until you swell with child. Your belly will grow fat with the life I plant in you. You will always be beautiful to me, but never more then when I can place my hands on you and feel the life that moves inside.” His hands move over her flat stomach and Natasha can see it in her mind’s eye, the rounding that will come as the pregnancy progresses. God, this shouldn’t arouse her as much as it is, but she can feel the slickness growing between her legs as he talks. 

He releases her hands and she drives them into his hair. Loki’s hands trace her thighs as they fall open to reveal her dripping slit to him. He grins and dips his head to lick a long line from one end of her to the other, the tip of his tongue slipping inside. Natasha moans and gives a small jerk of her hips. Loki laughs at that, the utter bastard, but at least he continues to use his mouth and tongue to drive her towards the edge with ruthless efficiency. Her hips are rising off the bed now, but he lays one of his forearms across her, pinning her down again as she spirals higher still. Just as she starts to crest, he slips her tongue all the way inside her and fucks her with it. She comes screaming his name, the edges of her vision actually whiting out. When she comes back to herself, Loki is nuzzling her thigh, his mouth and chin wet with her release, his green eyes dancing with pleasure. 

Natasha draws him back up and licks the taste of herself out of his mouth. Her fingers dance across his skin and she wraps one hand around his cock, hard and dripping. She traces the head with her fingers, smearing the fluid there. Loki groans and bucks into the circle of her fist. She pumps him a few more times. He tries to draw away. “I shall spill nowhere else then inside of you,” he growls. She strokes him one more time and smirks at him as he grinds his teeth into his lower lip. She licks the droplets of blood there, staining her own mouth with it. 

Finally, Loki settles himself between her thighs again, one hand firm on her hip and the other guiding him to her entrance. He stills and Natasha tries to thrust her hips up, to get him to thrust, to move, to do _anything_. “You are sure?” he asks one final time. He’s giving her an out, a last chance to change her mind, to walk away. 

She draws his mouth down to hers and says, “Loki, please” and that’s all the permission he needs to set himself to the hilt inside of her. He draws back out and thrusts back in, setting a fast and brutal rhythm. He’s so deep that he’s bumping the mouth of her womb with every stroke and it’s too much and not enough all at the same time.

“What would your teammates say if they could see you now? What would your archer think, to see you spread out underneath me? Or your handler, seeing you stuffed full of your sworn enemy? What will the director say when he finds your belly starting to round? Would the good Captain seek me to duel for taking your virtue?”

Natasha throws her head back and moans. She doesn’t know what she’s going to tell the others, how she’s going to explain this to them. She can just see Steve’s confusion and Tony’s anger and Thor will be torn between joy and sorrow. Bruce will have to be told someone safe in case he Hulks out, but it’s going to be Clint and Coulson’s reactions that will be the worst. They will try to convince her that she’s brainwashed, not herself. Clint will try and hunt Loki down and Coulson—Phil—he’ll try and talk at her, then lock her in a cell for her own safety. Fury might actually try and have her executed. She’s run the numbers in her head a million times and the risk is always worth the reward. It doesn’t matter what comes next, what the Avengers try and do. She’s Loki and he’s hers and they will make a new life together. 

Her breath hitches as he grabs her hips and tilts them, changing the angle. She’s spiraling up again, and Loki is right there with her, and goddammit he’s _still talking_. 

“My seed will flow into you and take root there. If not this time, then I shall fuck you every night and fill you until you drip with it.” Natasha’s whimpering as the head of his cock slams in again and again. “You want it, don’t you? To be filled until you over flow with my essence? Tell me. You must beg for it, or you shall have none.” He starts to pull out and Natasha breaks and wails. 

“Yes, yes, oh _god_ Loki, please, yes, I want it. Give it to me, please.” She’s the Black Widow and she never begs for anything but she’s never wanted something so bad as she wants this. Loki snarls as he gives one more violent thrust, swells inside of her and goes rigid. She feels it as he climaxes, the thick spurts painting her channel. His release triggers hers and she’s gone, falling over the edge and contracting around him. He fucks her through both their orgasms. 

Finally, he slows his thrusting and gently slides out of her. She whimpers at the empty feeling that he leaves behind. He collapses on the bed next to her and his hand immediately settles on her stomach. It’s empty now, but soon, life will grow there. She doesn’t know what the future will hold, but she does know that whatever it does, they shall face it together.


End file.
